


Boo's Clues

by GinAndCats



Category: Blue's Clues, To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
Genre: Creepy, Death, Hell, Murder, blues clues au, demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndCats/pseuds/GinAndCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boo wakes up as Blue, from Blue's Clues. But something is very, very wrong here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boo's Clues

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when your English teacher literally assigns you to write a fanfiction on To Kill a Mockingbird. Honestly this is so fucking weird, I love it, I hope you love it too.

He wakes up, feeling hung-over. He cannot even begin to remember what happened last night; the last thing he remembers is the back of his brother’s head. And after that…nothing. He tries to wipe his eyes, but his hands aren’t there. In their stead is a pair of bright blue paws. He screams but the only sound he makes is a howl. He sees light at the end of the hallway and frantically runs towards it. The light makes his hangover that much worse but he can’t stand to be in the dark anymore. He bursts through the door and the first thing he sees is a man in a striped green shirt.

“Well there you are Boo! Ready to start today’s adventure?” the room is filled with bright colors and loud patterns. It seems like everything has eyes, and they’re all looking at him. He tries to talk to the man, ask him why he isn’t in Maycomb anymore. His words turn into barks and the man in the striped green shirt laughs. His laugh is as hollow as his smile. Boo looks around for an exit, but the door he came through is gone. There is nothing but this room. 

“Okay Boo, today we’re going on a treasure hunt!” He tries to talk again, but he just barks and barks and barks. Barking, with paws, he realizes he’s a dog. He’s a bright blue dog stuck in this children’s hell. “Let’s go into the kitchen!”

Suddenly they’re in the kitchen, no less bright than the previous room. The man in the striped green shirt approaches the kitchen table and begins speaking to some monstrosity. 

“Hello Mr. Salk Shaker!” the supposed salk shaker looks like it made out of bits of paper and glue. It’s ‘mouth’ moves open and closed but no sound comes out. Its dead eyes never blink, and its stick arms move without a purpose. Boo watches the one sided conversation between them until the salt shaker pulls out two shiny coins. The man in the striped green shirt accepts them and looks to Boo. Only now his eyes are void of color and pupil. He open his mouth and in a loud, disembodied, layered voice the man says

**“What is the price of a man’s life Boo?”** He barks in surprise and remembers the feeling of warm blood coating his hands slowly, like much needed lotion on dry skin. But that memory can’t be real, it can’t be. He blinks and suddenly they’re in some sort of bank. The bank tellers seem to have painted on smiles.

“Hello Ms. Bank Teller, we’d like to exchange these coins” He wants to leave. He needs to get away from these monsters. The room spins, but stays still. His eyes perceive, but don’t believe. The man in the green striped shirt kneels down to his level. Boo tries to back away but finds that he’s already against a wall. 

“Look what we got for the coins!” His friendly voice sounds like a saw on rusty metal. But he pulls out a doll from his pocket. A perfectly carved doll of Boo, as a person. He remembers making dolls just like that for children. The doll looks like it was carved by Boo himself. But how could that be? How could this man have a doll of him? 

“The next clue must be inside” The man cracks the doll open at the neck, letting the head fall to the floor. For a moment the only sound is that of the decapitated head hitting the smooth tile and rolling away. He pulls out a piece of paper and his eyes go white again. **“Look into the eyes of a killer”**

His mouth doesn’t move this time, the words somehow slip through the garishly white teeth of this man. He tries to yell _‘Who are you? What do you want from me? Let me go, let me leave demon!’_ but it only results in more incomprehensional barking. 

“You’re right Boo! We should get a mirror!” A mirror? To look into the eyes of a killer. But he’s already seen the man in the striped green shirt’s eyes.  
In a whirlwind flash they’re back in the first room. Only one wall is completely covered in mirrors of different sizes and shapes. He looks up at the man in the striped green shirt, what is going on?

“Go ahead Boo, look in the mirror.” He stands smiling, looking straight ahead. Boo doesn’t want to look in the mirror, he’s scared of what he might find. But from somewhere behind the mirrors a ticking sound gets louder and louder. Ticking and tocking along with his heart beat. Finally he looks in the mirror. 

And he sees himself. He sees himself as a blue spotted dog with the same white eyes of the man in the striped green shirt. He breaths out and looks right into his own pair of dead, resigned eyes. He feels sick to his stomach. 

In his head memories of children screaming along a dark wooded path dance with memories of pulling a man back into his deadly embrace. He remembers the feeling of finally getting out of that house. Of finally taking the blood he desired. He remembers the children he would kill for- the children he did kill for. And he remembers getting away with it.

The mirrors explode into shards of painless glass. The ticking sound is louder than ever. And the ticking sound has a source. It’s his pocket watch. It’s undeniably his. The small wind up contraption that was always a grave reminder of his sentence. The man in the striped green shirt jerks his head towards Boo as he grabs the pocket watch by the chain. He dangles his possession in front of Boo.

**“Time is running out to repent”**

He shakes his head and tries to run far away, he runs through endless darkness. But everything looks the same. But in the distance is a door. A plain white door. He runs full speed at it knocking it down with his force. 

“Do you remember now Boo?” He’s in his living room. He sees the plain blue chair where he’d sit and watch the children play. He sees piles upon piles of newspaper clippings, but mostly he sees the man in the striped green shirt stands in front of everyone he’s ever known. Atticus, his brother, Scout, his father, Jem, his mother. And the countless faces of Maycomb’s happy little citizens.

In the middle of the rooms sits an open ornate box. He steps closer and closer to it. Inside is his knife. Oozing bright red blood, pungent with decay. The crowd parts as if his gaze is Moses and right in the back of the room is Bob Ewell. 

He staggers and gasps. Falling to the ground without any grace. He stretches his bloodied hand out for help. His pained expression meets with Boos and he watches the man die. He watches the man he killed die. And the worst part is his eyes. They weren’t cold and dead and white like the rest of the eyes in the room. They had color, and life that slowly leaked out of them with each passing moment. 

Boo watches horrified as this happens. Throughout the room each person starts chanting is ugly dissonance.

**“you killed him.”**

**“you killed him.”**

**“you killed him.”**

The words feel like knives, each hitting him exactly where he had hit Bob Ewell. He howled and barked in pain and agony. He begged for mercy. But right over the chanting of his loved ones was a whisper, one just loud enough for him to hear. In a voice that was unmistakably his own he heard

 

**“Welcome To Hell.”**


End file.
